


The Wolf and Peter

by liveteaordie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, Ok everyone is a wolf, Peter and the Wolf, Stiles is a girl, Wolf!Derek, Wolf!Stiles, except peter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liveteaordie/pseuds/liveteaordie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Retelling of 'Peter and the Wolf' from the wolf's point of view. But in this case the wolf is Derek Hale</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wolf and Peter

The wolf was tired. He had been walking for days, searching for the smallest sniff of food. It was that time of year. The winter skies covered with dark gray clouds, making it almost impossible to tell morning from evening. The undergrowth in the forest was bare of leaves, its gnarled twigs catching in his thick coat, pulling out tuffs of fur. 

He was on a hunt, and unless he brought back game, his mate and cubs would die. A dopey grin covered his usually stoic face. Stiles, his perfect mate, was waiting for him to return to their hollow. Right about now the cubs would be kneading her soft underbelly searching for milk.

Sobering instantly, he focused on the task at hand. Unless he brought food back, Stiles’ milk would dry up, and the cubs would be left crying. If he was too late, they would die. 

\----

Back in the wolf’s hollow, Stiles and the cubs waited. It had been four days since Stiles had seen Derek, her mate. Derek had left to find food since all the other creatures in their forest had holed up for winter. 

Right after Derek left, the cubs had started play fighting. With a happy sigh, Stiles turned towards her cubs. Scott, the youngest, was a deep, warm brown, with piercing golden eyes. As much as she loved him, he wasn’t the sharpest tooth in the bunch. 

Almost on cue, Scott tripped over his large puppy feet and went sprawling onto the hollows floor. Rolling over to his back, he stared up at his paws in wonder.

Isaac and Erica were an almost identical sandy gray, the only way to tell them apart was their eyes. Erica had sharp green eyes, while Isaac’s were the softest blue. Isaac was the runt, for all he was the second oldest. Because he was smaller than the others he tended to hang back watching rather than join in with his littermate’s rough housing. Erica was the opposite. In fact, ninety percent of the time, she started it all.

If it weren’t for Boyd, her oldest, Stiles would have gone crazy long ago. Boyd was unnaturally mature for his age. His dark brown fur was almost black, just like his eyes.

Thinking of her and Derek’s cubs made Stiles chest swell. When Derek returned, Stiles and the cubs would be here waiting for him, ready to run out and greet him. With a soft yip she called her cubs to her. They dashed over, Scott only just stumbling, and burrowed into her soft fur. Pulling her tail around them, they settled in to wait. Derek had promised to return within seven days. Today was the sixth day, and Stiles’ mate had never broken his promises.

\---

Derek pressed on, thoughts of his mate and cubs back home giving him purpose. Surely today he would find something. If he was gone for too much longer he ran the risk of getting caught in a snow storm. And if he was caught, he would never make it back to his Stiles.

Derek could remember when he first met Stiles. She was all paws, tripping over her gangly legs and crashing into him. Derek had growled at her. He was this close to catching a rabbit before she came along.

His eyes glazed as he remembered.

“Sorry! Sorry it’s just I saw you and I though Hey! Another wolf! It’s been ages since I saw a new wolf and I already know everyone else but not you so I wanted to get to know you before Jackson whammed you with his jock-magic!”

Stunned into silence Derek lay on the ground. Who was this hyperactive wolf, who could barely run straight, let alone talk at a normal speed.

And on the topic of talking, she. was. still. talking.

“and it’s not as if your really knew here, you’re Derek Hale right? I thought so my dad is the alpha here and I remember when the hunters were here I mean I wasn’t very old so it’s a little fuzzy but I can still remember bits!”

“Stop talking!” Derek finally got in, growling. His tail was spiked with irritation, and this wolf’s constant yapping was giving him a head ache. Finally standing up, Derek shook the grass and dirt off of him and stalked off.

“No wait come back! You didn’t even ask my name! I’m Stiles! I’m from the Stilinksi pack! Oh come on, you don’t have to be such a sour wolf!”

Growling to himself Derek continued on. Stiles, what the Wild was a Stiles!?

At the time Derek had been too consumed in his own anger to appreciate her, and it was months before they were close. But she never gave up. Bit by bit she cracked his shell, pulling his further and further out.

A noise pulled him out of his daze. He dropped to his belly, pulling his legs in close, ready to run at any second. Swiveling his ears he tried to pinpoint the sound. 

A few minutes passed before he heard it again. It was coming from the east. Derek started crawling towards it, using every trick he knew to stay silent. If he scared whatever it was off, he might not find something again. This was his last chance.

Finally reaching the clearing the noise came from Derek peered out. There was a duck. A plump duck, trying to swim on a frozen lake. As he watched, a raven flew down to the tree and spoke.

“CAW CAW MOTHERDUCKER” it burst out. The duck started at the outburst. Flapping it’s wings, it craned its neck to look up at the raven. 

“I beg your pardon!” the duck said indignantly. “What did you just call me?”

The raven cackled to itself, delighted by the duck’s response. “You heard me ground-bound!”

The duck puffed up its feathers, “Wha...What does that have to do with anything?” 

Still cackling the raven continued “You can’t fly you pheasant. What kind of a bird can’t fly! ALL BIRDS CAN FLY. Therefore, you aren’t a bird.”

The duck grew more and more upset at each word. “At least I don’t have to resort to petty insults!” it shouted, its voice trembling.

“Oh dear, did I hurt your feelings?” The raven asked with mock concern.

As the two avians bickered, Derek could see a large fat cat sneaking up behind the raven. Immediately on guard, Derek narrowed his eyes. There was no way that cat was getting it’s claws on his birds. 

\----

The animals were all too focused on each other to notice the threat slowly approaching. There was a boy in the woods. Not yet a man, the boy had snuck out of his grandparents house, unknowingly freeing the duck and cat. 

The boy found the clearing just as the wolf leapt at the duck. Panicked, the boy thought of a plan to stop the wolf, for if the duck was eaten he would be blamed for letting it out. Running back to the house, the boy grabbed a length of thick, coarse rope. 

The rope was heavy, and slowed the boy down on his way back to where the animals were. His heart beat quick and loud in his ears, his breath coming in gasps. 

Stumbling just outside the clearing, the boy watching for a brief second as the wolf slipped and slid over the ice. The duck wasn’t faring much better, its webbed feet giving it no purchase on the slick surface. Neither the raven nor the cat were in sight, but five inky feathers lay on the ground at the base of the tree.

Thinking fast, the boy ran to the tree, careful to remain unnoticed by the wolf and duck. He shimmied out onto an overhanging branch, his hands deftly tying a loop at the end of the rope. Leaning out over the animals, the boy slowly lowered the rope.

\---

Derek was desperate. This duck was his last chance, and although it wasn’t as large as a deer or a buck, it was enough to last for him and his family until he could hunt again. But the ice was impossible to walk on, let alone jump. The only good side was that at least the duck was unable to walk either. 

Because he was so focused on the duck, Derek didn’t notice the boy until he felt the tightening of the rope around his tail. And with a pained yelp, Derek was hoisted into the air.

Overwhelmed by the pain radiating through his spine, Derek thrashed about wildly, twisting and turning to reach the object that was causing him such agony.

Through the red haze creeping over his eyes, the wolf saw the boy in the creaking tree, his hands wrapped firmly around the rope he swung by. 

His first thought was that this boy was a hunter, and just like the hunters who had killed his old pack, he would kill Derek as well.

But Derek didn’t care about that. Stiles was waiting for him back in the hollow, and Stiles was all that Derek cared about. Giving up on the rope, Derek instead reached out for his own tail, intending to bite it off. After all, it was better to lose his tail than to lose his life. 

He could barely hold back his pained cries as again and again he bit through fur and skin. Blood began to well up and dripped in his eyes, blinding him.

Unable to see much of anything, Derek never noticed the boy climb down from the tree and run off. 

He hung there for what seemed like ages, suspended in agony. 

\---

The boy ran back to town, his feet pounding the ground in his effort to get back before the wolf freed itself. He burst into the towns tavern, remembering how the men would gather there each night and drink into the early morning, boasting of their feats.

He threw the doors wide open and stood there panting. The men froze, stories drifting away into the stale air. The boy gasped for breath, “I...wolf...in the woods...rope...didn’t mean to cause trouble...I...and the duck...and the wolf...”

After a few seconds the men’s ale-addled brains realized what was going on. With a great shuffle and clatter they all rose from their seats and surrounded the boy, all shouting at once.

“A wolf, boy? Surely you must be mistaken!”

“No, no, I’ve been tracking one for days!”

“Bahh, you’re just a lad, you couldn’t catch a wolf!”

One voice rose above the others.

“What color was his fur.” The other men fell silent, backing up until the speaker could be seen by all.

The boy swallowed nervously. It was Gerard Argent, the most feared and respected hunter in these woods. His family had been for generations, driving the wolves away from the villagers and killing those who came back. People said his aim with a bow was perfect, rivaled only by the King’s own archers.

“It... It was grey sir, with black tips.”

The stoic hunter’s gaze never left the boys. “You’re that Peter boy, aren’t you. The one who lives with the old man near the forest.”

Peter was shocked, he had no idea how the man knew this.

Argent must have seen his surprise, for he added “My daughter Kate buys wood from your family.”

Peter remembered the girl. Allison was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, but he was shy and would take her the kindling in silence.

“And his eyes, this wolf?” Argent asked. “Blue. Bright blue.” The hunter nodded, a smile creeping onto his face. Peter’s heart beat fast, the smile was neither kind nor comforting. Rather, it scared him. There was a glint in Argent’s eyes that hinted his twisted glee at the thought of killing this wolf.

“What are we waiting for then. Let’s go...find, this blue eyed beast.”

As the men rushed off to grab their bows and other weapons, Peter stood still, scared of what he had done, but not understanding why.

\---

Derek had given up. He hung there, bloody and still. The pain no longer bothered him, the ache in his chest causing him more pain than a physical wound ever could.

He had failed Stiles. 

He had failed his cubs. 

And he had failed himself.

He saw his mate in his mind, still waiting for him to come back home. He thought of how she would grow thinner and thinner, and of how his pups would wail with hunger.

Derek wished he had never met Stiles. If she was with someone else, she would be happier. Stiles was too good for him. He couldn’t even provide for those he loved, how could he possibly think he deserved her. 

The wolf looked as if he were already dead when the hunters arrived at the clearing. He couldn’t muster enough energy to open his eyes, let alone try and fight them. 

\---

Peter watched as Argent drew back his arrow. Argent’s eyes were cold and filled with a cruel glow. Unable to remain silent, Peter shouted out “No!”

The boy’s outburst shocked the hunter. No? If the boy didn’t want them to kill the beast, what did he go to them for? 

“No. Don’t kill him.”

His voice coated with disbelief, the hunter replied “Don’t kill him...This is a wolf boy! A savage beast that would kill you without hesitation! And what, you want me to let it go?”

Cowed by the hunters anger, Peter’s voice grew small. “We could... The zoo. We could take him to the zoo.”

Argent’s eyes narrowed to slits, “The zoo.”

The boy nodded.

Argent was silent. He respected the boys courage, catching a fully matured wolf, one who was obviously hungry. And then the boy had the gall to tell him he couldn’t kill it? He slowly lowered his bow.

“Fine.” he growled. “But it was you who caught the thing, so you can get him to the zoo on your own.”

Relieved, the boy quickly agreed, and one by one the hunters all left the clearing, until only Argent and Peter were left. Giving Peter a nod, Argent turned and walked away.

The pressure in the boys chest loosened. He had gotten what he wanted, but now he still had to get the wolf to the zoo.

Peter turned back to the still creature. Grabbing some spare rope, he slowly, gingerly approached the massive bloody head.

Quick as a fox, the boy had the wolf’s dangerous jaws bound before it even stirred. Moving fast, he tied the creatures legs together as well. By now, the wolf was wide awake, although it remained still, it’s bright blue eyes following his every move.

Finished with securing the wolf, Peter went back to the tree to let the wolf down. Once he had lowered him to the ice, the boy carefully climbed down from the tree, being sure to keep hold of the rope. Although the wolf couldn’t escape, Peter wasn’t going to take any chances.

The wolf watched as he got closer and closer. When he reached its side he moved to untie the knot around its tail. The wolf growled as he reached for the bloody appendage, slowly rising in volume.

After it was freed, Peter sat back, unsure of how to proceed. He could tie the rope around its neck, and untie it’s leg so it could walk, but then it might turn on him. Even though it’s jaws were trapped, it’s claws were still plenty deadly. Maybe he could make a sled, and pull it back to his home on that. If he did that, he wouldn’t have to untie it’s legs.

Right. Peter nodded to himself. If he started now, maybe he could make it back home before it got dark. With winter fast approaching, the days were growing shorter, and sunset was barely an hour away.

The boy ran home, going straight to his grandfather’s shed to search for something he could use as a make-shift sled. Finding a large piece of stiff tarp, he fastened a length of rope to two corners. It wasn’t the greatest sled, but it would work well enough.

Peter returned to the clearing, the tarp and rope in his arms. Dumping the objects on the ground next to the still wolf, Peter knelt next to the animal. After spreading out the tarp as close to the wolf as he could manage, the boy carefully began to slide the wolf inch by inch onto the material. Finally satisfied that the wolf was secure, Peter stood up and set out for home, daylight fading fast.

\---

Derek’s heart hammered in his chest. The hunters had all left for now, and only the boy remained. His thoughts whirled in his mind, searching desperately for a way to escape. With his mouth bound shut, he couldn’t chew through the ropes that restrained his legs. He tried wiggling, but the movements caused agony to shoot up his spine from his mangled tail. 

His tail. The boy puzzled him. After the boy had lowered Derek to the ground, he had untied the vice around the pained appendage. The wolf thought he had caught a flash of regret on the boy’s face, but everything he knew of humans told him they lived to hurt his kind. This human had captured him, injured him, and brought the hunters. But then he sent them away? Derek didn’t know what the boy was planning, and that scared him more than anything.

Derek watched as the boy returned. The human’s arms were full with some bulky object that he spread next to him. Alarm filled him when the boy reached for him, and a low, menacing growl reverberated from his throat. But it accomplished nothing. The boy carried on, shoving Derek and moving him from the cold ground onto the coarse material. He never stopped in his threats until after the boy stood up again. Confused, the wolf watched as he grabbed the rope tied to the cloth. A surprised grunt escaped him as he started moving. His natural balance was little help to him as he was dragged over the hard bumpy ground.

Derek grew more alarmed by the minute. Where was the boy taking him? Was he taking him to the hunters? Was he hauling him away so he could kill him elsewhere? But if the boy was going to kill him, why hadn’t he done it already, and got the deed over and done with? Nothing made sense to him anymore. But the one thing Derek did know was that with each step the boy took he was being pulled further and further from his mate. 

\---

Peter and the wolf arrived at the boys home in darkness, the only light sources being the moon and a small candle that could just be seen through a dirty window. Peter pulled the sled up to the back door of his grandfather’s home, fumbling to open the door with his hands full of rope. It was too late to pull the wolf the five miles to the zookeeper, so it would have to stay with them until morning.

Inside the house was warm, heat from a small hearth filled the building. His grandfather sat at their worn table, working on a small wooden carving. Wood shavings littered both the table and the floor around him. The old man paused in his work, peering out from behind shaggy eyebrows at the two who had entered. The old man had long ago grown used to his grandson’s antics, and no longer tried to make sense of his decisions. 

Peter pulled the wolf in front of the fire and let the rope fall to the floor. The boy’s next actions surprised Derek. Instead of just walking away, the boy knelt down, mumbling odd sounds that the wolf couldn’t understand. He reached for the rope around Derek’s muzzle, prompting another low growl out of the wolf. Peter pulled back, grabbing another length of rope, fastening one end around his neck and the other around a thick pipe that was connected to the fireplace. One he was satisfied with the leash Peter again reached for the rope muzzle. With a quick jerk, the rope came free, and Derek’s growl grew louder. Peter quickly backed away out of reach from Derek’s sharp teeth.

Derek watched as the boy disappeared into a small side room and emerge with a bowl filled with water, which he placed next to the wolf. Derek stared at the boy as he slowly leaned to sniff the offered liquid with suspicion. Unable to find anything unusual about it, he gave a tentative dab with his tongue. Until then, hunger and thirst had been stubbornly ignored. Suddenly the wolf couldn’t drink fast enough.

Peter watched silently as Derek gulped down the water. After the bowl was empty, Derek sat back, watching the strange boy that had caught him. The boy was a mystery Derek couldn’t solve, and that annoyed him.

Guilt filled Peter. He wished he had never caught the wolf. The only life left for the creature was one behind bars. Such a life was one he would never wish upon any creature. But of the options available to the situation, he would have the wolf a prisoner that dead. If only the wolf had never came to that clearing.

With a blink, the trance that held both creatures still broke, and the boy stood up, and walked away.


End file.
